


Poise of Carnation

by gomushroom



Series: Rainy November [7]
Category: Arashi (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Established Relationship, M/M, Slow Burn
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-29
Updated: 2020-12-20
Packaged: 2021-03-10 01:47:29
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 16,478
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27695786
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/gomushroom/pseuds/gomushroom
Summary: And finally Ohno feels, andis, at home with Matsumoto.
Relationships: Matsumoto Jun/Ohno Satoshi
Series: Rainy November [7]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/692910
Kudos: 16





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> So, here I am a tad late because n o t h i n g I planned work smoothly this month. And here's the first chapter of ~~two~~ THREE for this year instalment. Full notes, tags update, and more will come with the last chapter, so until then <3!
> 
> Happiest bisday, Ohno-san ✨💙 ~ilu!
> 
> .

Morning at Matsumoto's is the best. 

Especially when it’s cloudy and drizzling and cold, and Ohno wants nothing but to stay in the now-familiar space all morning. Matsumoto’s kitchen is always warm—fragrant coffee is brewing, the kettle starts to whistle, a pan of makeshift miso is simmering on one of the stoves. And Matsumoto always has rice in the morning—he makes sure he does since Ohno spends his morning there often enough. 

However, Monday morning at Matsumoto's is the worst.

Especially since it is a gloomy morning, the end of their shared weekend, and soon, it will be time for Ohno to go to work. And all he could do at the moment was standing motionlessly in Matsumoto’s kitchen, already in his work suit, and letting out a deep sigh.

Sunday went in a flash, and like always, Ohno can’t help to feel some regrets.

The memory of the weekend returns in his mind. Being another anticipated shared weekend, Ohno was ecstatic when he arrived at Matsumoto’s Saturday morning. He brought his new sketchbook this time and they spent the afternoon on Matsumoto’s couch, huddled together. With Matsumoto’s gushing over his doodles and half-finished sketches, Ohno was content in sharing more—even trying to come up with some new ones much to Matsumoto’s delight.

The quiet night was exactly what Ohno needed. Matsumoto still fussed, asking if Ohno would prefer them going out to eat or drink—Ohno said no, he’s happy to spend the night in—and asking if Ohno got bored since there’s no TV—Ohno said no, firmly this time, trying his best to convince Matsumoto that he’s used to have no white noise around. He finally had enough and pulled down Matsumoto to settle next to him under the large couch blanket, asking him about his week at the laundry shop and letting Matsumoto’s stories about who’s been missing their shop appointment, the mistaken delivery for the new brand of softener Matsumoto is trying, and the usual customers details that Ohno has grown fond of. 

Together, they spent most of Sunday on the living room couch and had everything they needed within reach. Matsumoto had a new blend of coffee and asked Ohno to try it; he hated it and before he could lie and say he likes it, Matsumoto laughed at his face scrunch and took his opinion for consideration. They shared a nabe for dinner and afterwards spent the night close to each other in Matsumoto’s bed. Ohno settled into the night, sighing in content, and let Matsumoto do as he pleases. 

Ohno wants them to do more together, so many more. He regrets not doing more.

However, morning comes and it’s time for him to go to work. Matsumoto has been kind enough to drag himself out of the warm bed and is now in the kitchen still wrapped in his long sweater. He sleepily watches Ohno set himself a quick breakfast and refuses any offer of light breakfast, saying that he’d be happy with only coffee now.

Ohno tries to eat breakfast as slowly as he could but still he finishes in no time.

Now half sprawled on the kitchen counter, Matsumoto insists that Ohno can make himself a lunch bento. Pointing out to the right corner of the kitchen, he says, “Just pick one of the boxes from the second from the bottom shelf.”

Ohno can’t hold in his smile, and he almost says _yes, Jun_ , but he keeps it in. Among the tidy stack of boxes, he finds a familiar one—Matsumoto used it once for their dinner date, and pulls it out. 

He presents it to Matsumoto with a bit of flourish, teasing Matsumoto for being so full of care for him in the morning. “I can easily get my own lunch, you know.”

“I know,” Matsumoto says, still in a serious sleepy face. “But you can also easily bring some lunch. We have a lot of food from yesterday.”

He basks a bit on the memory of yesterday lunchtime when Matsumoto showed him how he does meal prep and batch cooking for the week. Of course, they ended up with more that they needed for meals, Matsumoto kept on adding side dishes after another, stating that Ohno would enjoy them and he needed the extra to make bento others—and Ohno did, in addition to feeling warmth inside from all the attention.

This time, a smile comes easy and Ohno finally says, “Yes, Jun.”

Matsumoto only huffs but he keeps his eyes on Ohno’s movement as Ohno prepares his own lunch and packs it in Matsumoto’s bento box. 

Most of the time Ohno feels a bit ungrateful to even want more—he’s been the happiest on weekend. It doesn’t seem right to want more but Matsumoto continues to surprise him at times.

Matsumoto then insists to walk him down, no matter how many times Ohno says that he doesn’t have to. “You don’t have to be out this early morning. It’s cold, and you’re only wearing your sweater. At least put on your coat, or something.”

“It’s just going to be a quick trip. I have to get something in the shop anyway,” Matsumoto says as he grabs his keys without looking at Ohno—but Ohno knows that’s just an excuse and he lets Matsumoto be. 

They stop under the shop awning. The street is still quiet but they can hear the morning bustle around the corner—Matsumoto stays close to Ohno, and it’s like he doesn’t want Ohno to go, but Ohno needs to. They stood under the awning so many times by now, but each time it still feels special for Ohno; he only hopes it will always stay special.

“I had a wonderful time this weekend. Thank you for allowing me to stay over,” he says, his hand rubbing Matsumoto’s arm and wanting him to stay warm. 

“You’re most welcome,” Matsumoto says. Sleep has cleared a bit on his expression but he’s clutching on his sweater tightly. “Have a good one today, and call me sometimes this week, okay?”

Ohno nods, promising not only Matsumoto but also himself to fulfil that promise. “I will.”

That is something they talked about—but it’s nice to use cryptic.

“Make sure you do.” Matsumoto leans in to give Ohno a soft peck on the cheek. “Take care, Ohno-san.”

And Ohno gives Matsumoto one last squeeze in his arm before turning to go. He wouldn’t be able to go if he keeps on standing close to Matsumoto. He makes the first turn and is greeted by the scenery he found as he walks his way to the station is familiar with by now. 

Halfway to the station, he can smell glorious coffee fragrant from the small café he now knows offers a good one; there’s already a short queue there. Ohno makes the last turn and sees the flower shop that he has been eyeing but he still hasn’t gathered his courage to go; maybe next time, maybe next week. 

He joins the throng of the people trying to go to the South Exit, passing the newsstand—so lonely in the morning, he can’t help to think—where Matsumoto now often waits for him for their meet up.

On the platform, he joined the queue for the farthest car. A quick glance at the clock said his train won’t be arriving for another 5 minutes; he made good time this morning. 

Sighing, he pulls out his phone and begins to idly scroll through the updates he’s been missing. Nothing from work—which is a blessing—and a good sign for the week to come. 

The warmth from Matsumoto’s shop still lingers, even if it gradually gets shifted to the back of his mind. A flash of fond memory reminds him that unlike in the past this time he’s going away to return later. Anticipation of the following weekend continues to sustain him throughout weekdays. The thought of him sharing his weekend with Matsumoto still makes his days bearable. 

There were times when he was worried that what he’s been having with Matsumoto won’t work. Weeks always turn faster. But he learns that Matsumoto shares the same worry, that Matsumoto continues to wait for him, and as much as he hates to ponder on his own thoughts, Ohno not only catches himself smiling more these days, but realizes that he’s been smiling _with_ Matsumoto even more.

The sliver of irrational fear remains in his heart—the what if question that has been haunting him for some months. What if next week he can’t have what he has with Matsumoto again? What if—what if—what if whatever this is he’s having with Matsumoto, like any other things in his life, doesn’t work?

The quest for answer is maddening but Ohno begins to see that while he hasn’t find _the_ right answer, he is now content knowing the might have an answer; It’s not necessarily the right answer, but Ohno finds it that he doesn’t mind if it’s only the answer he needs right now. Simply because he knows now that he’s not alone in seeking the answer.

He has Matsumoto with him.

The announcement for this train blares loudly through the speakers, a true reminder that weekend’s officially over. 

Ohno sheds all his thoughts from the weekend, braces himself to face the week, and steps into his train.

*

Next Monday morning, Ohno slowly wakes up with cold toes against his calf and comforting cocoons of lavender scents. After a jolt of wakefulness, he instantly relaxes, reaching out his hand with his eyes closed and meeting a source of heat under the bundle of blankets next to him. 

He’s at Matsumoto’s.

He’s at Matsumoto’s bed on a chilly spring morning, left with only a thin sheet of layer—as always the result of sharing a bed with a blanket thief, and feeling amazing. Three day extended weekend is blissfully promising. This time there’s no dread that usually comes with Monday morning and there’s no pressure to get ready for the day because he doesn’t need to get ready.

Ohno had to come to work on Saturday but the promise to spend three day at Matsumoto gave him the right motivation to shoulder through. 

They spent Sunday afternoon together at Aiba’s shop with Matsumoto’s friends, and actually stayed until way past dinner time; everyone was in festive holiday mood, and once Aiba suggested karaoke they were all on board and next thing Ohno knew they were all belting ballads—Sho-kun was actually pretty good for all his earlier complaints of not good with slow songs and how he wanted to sing some disco songs, Nino was amazing but losing his cool at the end after Aiba teased him. Aiba and Matsumoto made a good duet group with some rock songs, powerful harmonies altogether; and Ohno can’t even bother to hold back when it was his turn with the 80s ballad. At the end, Aiba-shop has completely turned into a karaoke booth with overflowing beers and snacks, and it was midnight when they reached Matsumoto’s apartment, flushed from the excitement and a tad bit tipsy.

With Tuesday as national holiday, he has Monday off but Matsumoto has to open the laundry shop because of his fixed daily appointments. 

Glancing at the alarm clock it seems like Ohno’s woken up a bit past his usual time but it’s not yet the time for Matsumoto’s alarm. Grinning from the prospect of being there as Matsumoto wakes up, Ohno shifts and scoots closer to the blankets mound that is Matsumoto with a luxurious stretch.

Apparently he jostles around enough to shake Matsumoto awake, and from under the top of the blanket mound, Ohno sees two pretty eyes, bleary with sleep, slowly open and focus on him.

Ohno gives him a lazy smile. The sight of Matsumoto in the morning always warm his heart, and at this time there’s nothing more Ohno wants to do then to stay like that for as long as they 

“No,” Matsumoto croaks, before closing his eyes again as he pulls Ohno closer.

“Okay,” Ohno easily agrees, knowing Matsumoto wouldn’t be agreeable to anything so early in the morning. He stays close, his fingers reaching up and starting to touch Matsumoto’s hair absently as his thoughts begin to wander. He hasn’t planned anything today, too busy to work as effective as he could to overcome his Saturday shift—that way he’d be free for the extended weekend and wouldn’t have to report back until Wednesday.

Matsumoto has convinced him that Ohno can stay around even if he has to work at the shop, but Ohno hasn’t really decided what he’s going to do.

The alarm finally blares and this time Matsumoto lets out a loud groan.

“Good morning.“

The reply he gets is a grumble followed by an attempt to smash his alarm clock.

Ohno waits until Matsumoto is up and dragging himself to the bathroom before he puts on his sweatpants and goes to the kitchen.

He sets the kettle on the stove before dealing with coffee. 

And by the time Matsumoto walks into the kitchen, looking fresh with his white work shirt and trousers albeit still a bit sleepy, Ohno has already poured two generous mugs for both of them and is waiting for him.

Matsumoto doesn’t go straight to get his mug but he comes around Ohno and engulfs him in a loose hug that turns into a long embrace. 

With a smile, Ohno sets his coffee and wraps his arms around Matsumoto. It has been a while and he should have gotten used to Matsumoto’s easy affection—especially in the morning when he’s still unguarded and sweet—but the unexpected touch still sends his heart beating faster. Always better than a caffeine rush.

“There’s your coffee,” Ohno says against Matsumoto’s neck. He already smells like lavender and Ohno takes a deep inhale, content and warm from the closeness. “And I can quickly do miso soup for you if you want.” 

Even if his hold around Ohno tightens, Matsumoto only grumbles. “No.”

Ohno chuckles this time.

They stay close, holding each other, taking both comfort and indulgence first thing in the morning. Matsumoto will ruin his work shirt, Ohno wonders, but with the way he clings to Ohno perhaps he doesn’t care—Ohno certainly is not caring, he has Matsumoto in his hold. He usually is the one who’s grumpy in the morning—although not as bad as Matsumoto, when he’s the one who has to leave for work. But this time Ohno is enjoying being the one who doesn’t have to go so soon; for once he is looking forward to this Monday. And in a reverse turn of events, he thinks he understands best how Monday morning could swing one’s mood so low. 

After a long sigh that sounds like wishful thinking, Matsumoto says, “I like it when you’re here in the mornings.”

I like being here too, Ohno wants to say, but he doesn’t have to. Not when he’s close and all he needs to do is to lean a bit to drop a soft kiss on Matsumoto's temple in response. 

“I really don’t want to go to work.”

Ohno nods. “Okay.”

Matsumoto lets out a soft chuckle before he finally leans away. He looks at Ohno with a small pout and gives him a light shove. “You’re not supposed to enable me.”

“I’m not doing anything,” Ohno grins, his hands stayed on Matsumoto’s waist and kept him near. 

Matsumoto rolls his eyes and slaps Ohno’s chest lightly. “Oh, you’re always doing plenty.”

The grin stays in Ohno’s face as Matsumoto steps back and goes to his fridge. He sits quietly across the counter and enjoys the rare sight of Matsumoto getting ready for his day. He never has the chance to do so; always the one who has to leave earlier. 

Taking small sips of his coffee, Ohno tries to not flinch as he watches Matsumoto dump heaps of assorted fruit cubes into his Greek yoghurt bowl; that doesn’t look so appealing. And he’s definitely going to have his miso breakfast after Matsumoto leaves for work; there’s no way he’s going to have yoghurt for breakfast. 

A quick glance to the cooker tells him that the rice is ready; he can quickly set up the soup and cook some eggs for his breakfast later. Still, he waits in his chair until Matsumoto finishes eating, until he goes to the living room to gather his work notes and returns with his bag, almost ready for the day. 

A thought comes across and Ohno remembers he wanted to ask Matsumoto one thing: “How about lunch?”

“Huh?”

The surprise in Matsumoto’s expression tells Ohno that he hasn’t planned anything; which is good, because Ohno has been trying to ask since yesterday and now that he knows there’s no plan it’s going to be easier to say what he has in mind. “Would it be okay if I make lunch then?” The _for us_ goes unspoken as usual now that Ohno knows they understand it can go without saying.

“I thought— I was thinking we could get quick delivery. It’s going to be a busy day in the shop and I don’t want you to—.” Matsumoto sighs and takes a deep breath. “ I mean, if you’re okay with cooking lunch, it would be completely okay for me too.” 

Pleased, Ohno nods. “Anything you want?”

“I’m fine with anything. Pick your favorite.”

“Mhmm.” Or I can pick your favorite, Ohno doesn’t say. He already has plans and now that he could continue with them it seems like it’s going to be a nice Monday. He was about to remind Matsumoto that he probably should get going when Matsumoto suddenly breaks away from his hold.

“Oh, before I forgot—“ he doesn’t even finish, turning to go to his bedroom and out of Ohno’s sight. Left in the kitchen, Ohno tries to crane his head and catches the sound of several shelves being opened and closed. 

Matsumoto reappears with something in his clenched hand, and when he returns to the kitchen he puts it on the counter.

A key.

Ohno glances up with confusion, finding Matsumoto smiling his cute shy smile of his and glances back down, staring at the key. It looks similar to his own apartment key, but did Matsumoto really?

“I almost never lock the shop’s front door during break even if I need to be at the back,” Matsumoto says. “But as you already know, the door for this apartment has an automatic lock. So, just in case you need to go out, and then you need to get back in while I’m down there working. Just— Ah— Oh, actually you can just keep it, so it’d be comfortable for you to spend your day here. I would like for you to keep it.”

It’s a key with a little keychain with small charms of several cute short cake dangles and a dark blue tassel. 

It’s the key, Matsumoto’s apartment key.

Ohno’s mind is still catching up, overwhelmed as he might be, when he sees Matsumoto’s fingers twitch next to the key, and he does the first thing that comes to mind.

This is not as simple as just a key. This is something else, despite being done so subtly on a random morning. This is another gesture of Matsumoto’s trust; he’s been extremely kind in welcoming Ohno to his home, to his bed, to his life—but this is most probably the kindest yet. This is Matsumoto wanting Ohno to be comfortable at his home, and Ohno wants to say so many things and at the same time feels that no amount of words will ever convey how touched he is.

He then reaches out and holds Matsumoto’s hand. Their eyes meet, Matsumoto’s with his soft question and asking for acceptance and Ohno’s with nothing but gratitude and delight. He gives that slightly quivery hand a reassuring squeeze, pulls Matsumoto close for a quick kiss, and softly says. “Thank you.”

Matsumoto shrugs and mumbles his reply quickly before turning to get his bag and saying he needs to get going.

And Ohno gets to do the one thing that he’s been wanting to do for a long time, ever since Matsumoto did it for him months ago. He walks with Matsumoto to the door and for once Matsumoto is the one who opens the door and looks at him saying, “I’ll get going now.”

And then in this clear morning it’s finally his turn to reply. “Have a good one today.”

Matsumoto lets out a chuckle, understanding what this meant for Ohno since Ohno has been telling Matsumoto about what it meant for to send him off in the mornings. “You just want to say that.”

“I do. But I wish you all the same.” Ohno says straightforwardly, smiling. It’s an easy smile and now he knows the sight Matsumoto sees every time he walks Ohno to the door before Ohno needs to go to work? Is this how it feels to be on this side of the door, to stand here and be the one who sends the other off? Is this how happy Matsumoto feels when he was the one who sent Ohno off with a smile. Ohno really likes this feeling. 

Matsumoto fumbles a bit with his shoes and then he straightens up and flashes Ohno his soft smile; gone is the sleepy Matsumoto from an hour earlier, the one standing in front of Ohno is the Matsumoto whom people met when they visited the shop, bright and beautiful. 

“Let me know if you need anything,” he says as he gives Ohno a soft peck on the cheek before stepping out of the door. “You can come on down or give me a call any time.”

“I’ll be fine. Take care, Jun,” Ohno says with a small wave as he watches Matsumoto walking down the stairs. 

He slowly returns to the kitchen, his mind set on fixing himself breakfast. With familiar ease he sets a pot and begins his soup. He takes only what he needs from Matsumoto’s fridge—he doesn’t like too many things in his miso after all so tofu and spring onion only. And by the time everything is ready in front of him, Ohno is smiling—it looks exactly the same as the arrangement he does at home; a bowl of steaming rice with light miso soup and a large portion of fluff tamagoyaki. Plus, the shiozuke cucumber pickles he found in Matsumoto’s fridge perfectly compliment everything.

Ohno doesn’t bother to go around the counter and sit on the chair—he just stands around next to the stove, and slowly eats his breakfast as he takes in the sight of Matsumoto’s empty apartment.

Not empty though, he tells himself, he is here in the space now. 

After tidying up the kitchen and making sure he puts everything back to their place, Ohno refills his coffee and heads to the living room. 

He takes a seat in the middle of the couch, folding his feet up and sighing as he leans forward and puts his chin against his knees.

Taking a sip of coffee, Ohno slowly takes in the sense of solitary surrounding him. It’s been a while since he has a day off, and to spend it with Matsumoto is something he’s delighted about. Or he doesn’t remember the last time he has a day off—and not spending it at Matsumoto’s.

Morning is never really that bad. At least it’s quiet and chilly and Ohno likes the few hours of idleness he could get before his day starts. 

Back in his apartment he would get up for coffee and then move to his stacked extra futon next to his kitchen to curl up and listen to the quiet before he has to go through his day. It’s rare for him to just stay in bed; there’s something that doesn’t sit right with him to spend his leisure time under blankets and pillows—yet staying in bed in mornings has been slowly becoming his usual morning routine here at Matsumoto’s, with Matsumoto’s habit of bundling himself in blankets and trying to delay getting ready for his day as much as he can.

Back in his apartment most of the time he would try to clean up everything before he allows himself to indulge in some drawing time. There’s no sketchbooks lying around, even all the loose papers and napkins he used for his doodles are all mostly inside his art boxes by the kitchen. Matsumoto’s habit of leaving his papers and folders around in the apartment is rubbing off on him.

Taking another sip, Ohno frowns. His coffee has completely gone cold now. He sets his cup on the coffee table, and smiles at the sight of the mess on top of it. Matsumoto has left the living room windows open, and now with the late morning light and cool breeze filling the space, it’s pleasingly quiet inside. 

And at the center of Matsumoto’s apartment, on the couch where small blankets haphazardly folded and draped, in the hearth where Matsumoto invites Ohno to be, Ohno feels peaceful.

Such trust used to overwhelm him—he couldn’t even bring himself peace, how could he care for Matsumoto and give him that—but slowly he comes to realize that the trust can be encompassing too. He is still at loss of how he could return Matsumoto’s trust and affection fully but he learns that he could take his time, and that time is precious but could also be the only thing that he asks of Matsumoto. 

And in return, he will give Matsumoto anything, he wants to give Matsumoto anything. He knows now that such trust doesn’t come easy, but still Matsumoto allows him to be and Ohno owes him peace and trust as well. 

Tingles of needles on his right foot reminds him that he’s probably been sitting in weird posture longer than he realized. 

Also, about lunch.

Yes, about lunch, Ohno unfolds his feet and goes to lie down. The memory of Matsumoto’s surprised cute face when he suggested lunch sends him into a chuckle; now Ohno is more than determined to surprise Matsumoto some more.

With his phone in hand now, he straightens his leg and gets comfortable—he begins scrolling down his Instagram feed without really paying attention. He should be browsing his lunch plan. True, it was something he wanted to do for Matsumoto but it’s not like he has a solid plan. True, they haven’t talked about their plan for the day, but he knows Matsumoto will be working and he wants to make Matsumoto’s day easier—since he now has all the time in the world. Matsumoto has been doing it for him countless times, now it’s his turn.

Ohno considers his options: he could go out to the supermarket now and decide as he goes. But he doesn’t want to go around for nothing. He needs a plan—what lunch would be for starters. 

Or he could check Matsumoto’s fridge and find the available ingredients; now knowing Matsumoto can sometimes have a standard Ohno doesn’t understand—like that one time when he was against Ohno putting cilantro in their curry but also that other time when Ohno found fresh cilantro in the fridge and Matsumoto said he now likes cilantro, or like that one time when Matsumoto insisted on not adding too much shoyu into his vegetable soup even if Ohno outright complained that the flavor was too light and ended up adding some when Matsumoto was not looking.

So perhaps he should check with Matsumoto’s fridge first before deciding. 

A quick glance as he gets up from the couch tells him that he’s been sitting down with his thoughts for more than an hour and the pleasant morning has turned to approaching midday. 

Making his way into the kitchen, he begins working on his mental cooking notes. Matsumoto did say he’s fine with anything and Ohno can pick his favorite but Ohno wants to prepare something that is Matsumoto’s favorite this time; Ohno wouldn’t have it any other way.

In front of the open fridge, he spends what feels like long minutes squatting. It’s starting to get chilly when he realizes that he manages to find everything he thinks he needs for the dish—no need for a quick trip to the supermarket then. And also, it also means that everything he plans is within Matsumoto’s quirky standard. And finally satisfied with his plan, he hauls everything to the kitchen counter and inspects his loots—slowly he points at each ingredient, giving check marks on his mental list. A proud smile blooms on his face when everything is complete; now he’s ready. 

This shouldn’t be complicated, now that he’d checked several of his recipe search results; he only needs to marinate the pork first before he can set things up. 

After washing his hand and wiping his wet hands on his sweatpants, Ohno looks down and sees that he’s still wearing his white shirt. Sighing fondly, he moves to the corner to get Matsumoto’s apron—he doesn’t want to risk being scolded again for not wearing one and have spice stains. 

Or does he? 

Ohno’s hand stops before he can reach the apron.

Perhaps he wants Matsumoto to scold him for forgetting the apron again. Perhaps that would give him a reason to leave another shirt here, knowing that Matsumoto is going to take care of them. Not that he wants a free laundry service, Ohno has to hold in his chuckles, but Matsumoto can get very serious when it comes to some silly stains and Ohno truly enjoys every moment when he gets like that. 

Perhaps Ohno wants that. So no apron. Ohno nods seriously before finally breaking into a series of chuckles. 

More than an hour later lunch is ready and Ohno makes another decision.

He was already thinking of plating their lunch when he remembered that Matsumoto didn’t say if he wanted to have lunch in the shop or upstairs. He figures he needs to ask Matsumoto and since coming down seems to be a better choice than to disturb Matsumoto with a text message, Ohno gets the key and heads down to the shop. 

As he comes down the stairs he remembers Matsumoto once said it was a short walk, it was a short walk indeed. In light steps, Ohno makes the turn toward the front of the shop. And when he opens the door he’s greeted by the sound of the shop bell ringing. It never fails to bring a smile on his face.

“Welcome. I’m sorry but we’re about to—”

Then Matsumoto comes out from the back, and he’s a bit dishevelled and this time his polite smile seems distracted when he sees Ohno. “Ohno-san, I thought you were someone else. Did something happen?”

Ohno shakes his head and offers Matsumoto a smile as he steps into the shop with a familiarity. “So, you are still waiting for someone?” 

“Not really, but you’ll never know. There’s always someone who comes over just when I’m about to close for break.”

Few beats of silence before Ohno remembers why he’s coming down here. “Lunch is ready.”

“Oh.”

“I used a few things in your fridge.” 

Matsumoto lets out a soft laugh and reaches out to give Ohno’s arm a few comforting strokes. “You’ve been busy.” 

“I did sit on the couch for a few hours doing nothing at first.”

“Which is good. It’s your day off, you’re supposed to do anything you like.”

Or to do something for you, Ohno doesn’t say but he knows it’s good enough. “I came down to ask if you want to have them here or upstairs?”

“Upstairs, please. It’s too hot here at this time of day.” Matsumoto sighs, giving the clock a quick glance and turning his glance back to Ohno. “But it’s still five minutes before break time.”

Always so precise, Ohno smiles fondly. “We can wait. I have everything ready, I can wait with you.”

“I don’t think anyone will come anyway, but—”

It’s a habit, Ohno understands. “And it’s okay. I can stay here if you still have things to finish back there.”

Matsumoto seems to be given it a thought before he gives Ohno a nod. “Do you mind?

“Not at all.”

“Okay. Just yell for me if someone comes over,” Matsumoto says as he turns to go back to the back of the shop before adding in a louder voice. “Or just tell them we’re having a break. They can come back later.”

Ohno doesn’t think Matsumoto will do that—he’d just greet the one coming into the shop and get their order regardless. 

Ohno debates on going behind the counter, but decided against it. He doesn’t think anyone would come after all—Matsumoto has a fixed schedule and all his customers seem to be understanding of that. 

He ends up leaning against the counter and takes in the shop again.

He’s never been in the shop during the day; and he now understands when Matsumoto says it’s hot here. There’s a small fan above the counter but the direct sunlight goes differently here; he begins to see how uncomfortable it could be for Matsumoto to be here every day and all the work he’s doing with the laundry in the back room.

Matsumoto steps out from the back, now even more sweaty than before. “Okay, it’s one minute before midday and I think I can just close the shop now.”

“Let’s not break your reputation.”

Matsumoto lets out a short chuckle, but he shrugs. Taking a small towel out of one of the shelves, he sighs and tries to wipe his face. 

Ohno is just content to wait. One minute, one hour, as long as he’s with Matsumoto he thinks he won’t mind waiting. 

When a small beep comes out Matsumoto’s pocket, he turns to Ohno with a big grin. “That’s it. The sound of freedom. Shall we?”

Ohno laughs at the instant change of mood; he can definitely relate to that. He waits for Matsumoto to lock the shop before leading the climb back up, to the cool apartment and the lunch waiting for them.

“I’m home,” Matsumoto absently says the moment he enters the entryway before turning to Ohno as he takes off his shoes. “What we’re having?”

Ohno is already halfway to the kitchen. “Shougayaki.”

There’s no reply for a few moments before Ohno is engulfed in a sweaty hug from behind. “Ohno-san, you never tell me you can cook shougayaki.”

“I can’t. Or I couldn’t, but that’s before I looked it up,” Ohno says, his hand going on top Matsumoto’s hold around him. 

A sweet kiss on his nape, followed by a muffled praise. “You’re pretty savvy for a boyfriend.”

There it goes again, Matsumoto with his subtle mention and it brings a pleased flush to Ohno’s cheek. “It just took some google searches. And it wasn’t that hard.”

That doesn’t seem to stop Matsumoto from tightening his hold around Ohno. “And you remember I like shougayaki.”

You love shougayaki, Ohno wants to say. He remembers that statement clearly, but he’ll give Matsumoto a pass for that. “And that’s why we’re having it for lunch.”

“I’ll kiss you more, but I’m gross and sweaty. Let me freshen up and join you soon,” Matsumoto says, but he still manages to drop a soft peck against Ohno’s temple before he finally lets go of Ohno and heads to the bathroom.

Ohno simply closes his eyes to bask on the affection and sighs with a smile. 

He then begins to set things up—and when Matsumoto returns he almost has everything set on plates. Matsumoto usually wants them to have dinner in the living room so he asks. “Here or you want to move to the couch?” 

“Here’s fine,” Matsumoto says as he takes a seat in one of the chairs. “I usually just grab something quick here. We can lounge on the couch later.”

“Okay,” Ohno says. “Now stay there, I’ll have everything ready for us.”

Matsumoto waits until Ohno comes over next to him before he begins eating.

Ohno has made sure that everything in Matsumoto’s plate is the best part of his cooking—he added extra sauce with a pinch of ginger on Matsumoto’s plate while deliberately put some charred chunks on his; all the tidy strips of cabbage are on meticulously served on Matsumoto’s plate; he didn’t put any mayonnaise on the plate since he knew Matsumoto doesn’t really prefer it; even the cherry tomato halves he used to accentuate are arranged symmetrically on top of the cabbage. And he takes his time to watch Matsumoto take the first bite and hopes for the best.

“Ohno-san.”

And Ohno smiles. Matsumoto is chewing with his eyes closed, a wide smile on his sweaty face, shining lips puckered as if he’s trying to find words but he’s in the middle of enjoying all the flavor exploding in his senses. 

And when he opens his eyes, he looks straight to Ohno’s and still with his mouth full he tries to say: “This is so good. This is so so good!”

Ohno can only nod, agreeing. Not to the taste but to the delight Matsumoto’s showing over such a simple dish.

Worth it. 

It’s all worth it, he tells himself.

All his frustration when he found three different recipes that recommended three completely different ways to marinate the pork; all his effort to cut the cabbage so they can resemble the thin strips he found at a shop; all the struggles with his mental notes because he only remembered halfway into cooking that he should’ve written down his note on a piece of paper.

All of his hard work this morning is worth it, if only it’s for Matsumoto’s beaming smile.

Still he asks, “Really?”

Matsumoto hums contentedly, already halfway through his dish. “You even added extra ginger, you remember I like them.” 

You love extra ginger, Ohno grins widely. Not only in shougayaki but almost in anything—so it only takes a small deduction to add more ginger to a dish that uses ginger the most.

In a slower pace, Ohno partakes; and he has to pat himself on the back because this dish is really a success with all the flavor coming out nicely at the end. Even his charred chunks still taste okay. 

And seeing Matsumoto still has rice on his bowl and no more dish, Ohno slides his plate toward Matsumoto, offering the rest of his shougayaki. With their knees touching under the kitchen counter and in shared comfortable silence, they finish their lunch together.

Ohno brings his iced tea while Matsumoto refills his water tumbler before they move to the living room couch. Matsumoto insists that Ohno also needs a break after that lunch preparation and they settle on the couch—with Matsumoto lounging at one corner and Ohno sitting in the middle, having his feet up on the coffee table.

“Maybe it’s me getting older or something like that but I don’t find eating while standing up is acceptable anymore,” Matsumoto says with a sigh as he clutches his water tumbler, still with that smile from lunch.

“You’re supposed to sit down as you eat,” Ohno says absently as he looks down and scrolls down his Instagram feed, trying to find the recipes that helped him and planning to leave some comment. 

“I know. That’s why we really need a dining table.”

We?

Looking up from his phone, Ohno finds Matsumoto deep in thought. But before Ohno can ask further, he shifts to scoot closer to Ohno.

“This is the best lunch break I had in a long while.”

“Really?”

“Yes, really,” Matsumoto says as he gives Ohno a weak elbow jab. He wiggles closer until they’re close before resting his head on Ohno’s shoulder with a happy sigh. “With the long hour I put in the shop, lunch break has always been one of the things I look forward to everyday.”

Ohno puts down his phone and adjusts his posture so Matsumoto can be comfortable next to him and that he can give Matsumoto his attention.

“That is until you came and made me look forward to nights and weekends.”

He only hums now; the scent of lavender is strong around them because Matsumoto smells completely like his shop. In the cool living room, it feels like a world difference from the shop downstairs. “What do you usually do on your lunch break?”

“Napping,” Matsumoto answers with a soft laugh, and Ohno truly enjoys how his body reverberates against his. “Back in the years, I brought a lot of work up here and tried to finish them but that didn't go for my afternoon. I was always cranky because there were always unfinished tasks.”

“And now?”

“I set my foot down one time and since then I installed there’s-no-work-during-lunch-break policy to myself. I learned that if I take a power nap, it is usually better in the afternoon. I still get cranky sometimes though. ”

Ohno laughs at the honest admission. Matsumoto’s policy is one of the things that still amuses him until now. After a few weekend visit, Ohno found it the hard way that Matsumoto could be very precise when it concerns his work and house arrangement; there’s the workout policy; there’s some kiwi smoothie policy—this one Ohno hasn’t fully understand stil; there’s call Nino once a month policy; and of course the most confusing of all is the room temperature water policy. 

He doesn’t question Matsumoto and they seemingly have reached an agreement at some point; but it doesn’t make Ohno understand fully about these policy. He does consider it cute though.

He wants to ask about how it was in the store but he doesn’t want to probe into work things; after all, he is still having difficulty sharing his work stories with Matsumoto. It gradually gets better, with Matsumoto respecting Ohno’s willingness to tell him stories about this work whenever he feels like it and with Ohno learning to trust Matsumoto to be a good listener and being there for him.

“Do you want to know the second best lunch break I had?”

“Yes.”

“That afternoon when I made that bento.”

That bento means their first bento, and Ohno can’t help to feel warm inside—they’ve talked about it often with him asking Matsumoto to share some stories about the dishes he so meticulously prepared and with Matsumoto refusing to tell him anything and only promising that one day he’s going to recreate everything. 

Even now that Ohno knows his way into Matsumoto’s kitchen shelves he never found the tiered bento box again; Matsumoto simply gave him a sweet smile when Ohno asked and said that he’s stored it somewhere safe so one day they could use it again.

“That was amazing,” Ohno finally says, and carefully he turns his head slightly so he could kiss the top of Matsumoto’s head.

“Thank you. It was worth all the trouble,” Matsumoto softly says.

And Ohno hears it, he hears the unspoken _you_ made it all worth the trouble.

He was about to say he’ll always be thankful when Matsumoto’s head on his shoulder feels heavier, a tell tale sign of Matsumoto’s started to fall asleep on him. So this is how you spend your lunch break, Ohno holds in his chuckles. 

Not wanting to upset their balance, Ohno settles to sit still for as long as Matsumoto wants to nap. 

With Matsumoto’s warmth next to him, he takes in the mess on the coffee table. A folder of Matsumoto’s balance sheet was closed hastily, few papers corner peeking out in every direction. On top of it there’s Ohno’s sketch paper from last weekend—it seems like a face of an unknown man on most of the page—but Ohno knows he’s drawing Matsumoto, in blank ink outline; he had begun to add smaller uneven squares and circles under the man’s eyes, the right cheek now filled with asymmetrical patterns. On the other corner there are a few highlighters—that’s Matsumoto’s, and some magazines Ohno brought over the weeks.

In the corner of the living room, he sees the weird lamp in the corner which reminds him of Matsumoto’s sister and that one time he got to meet her. The framed drawing he gave Matsumoto a year ago are displayed in the middle of the large wall, becoming a centerpiece among Matsumoto’s other arts. The bottom row of Matsumoto’s tall bookshelf now holds Ohno’s sketch books and small canvases. 

And now at the center of Matsumoto’s apartment, with Matsumoto next to him Ohno feels nothing but peace.

Peace they created together. 

.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Added the chapter count because it’s so damn difficult to put in everything I planned. It seems like this universe doesn’t want to let me go yet~! This will be the longest instalment from this series—I’ve accepted my fate hahaha. Jun’s Diary on Voyage is partially responsible for all the ~extra~ in this chapter. :D
> 
> .

With only a slight turn Ohno finds the beautiful sight of Matsumoto, his eyelids fluttered in his sleep, his mouth slightly open and he might be drooling a bit. He has yet planned how he’s going to spend the afternoon but he knows Matsumoto needs to go down to open the shop in less than an hour. He would want some time to get ready.

And Ohno’s right shoulder has been completely asleep for perhaps more than fifteen minutes. 

He tries not to shake Matsumoto too much but he makes sure his voice is heard. “Jun?” When Matsumoto startles awake, Ohno gives a few reassuring rubs on his curled arm. 

“It can’t be two o’clock already,” Matsumoto mumbles grumpily a moment later but still shifts to lean away from Ohno, his eyes tad bleary and his lips pouting.

“Not yet, but—” you’ll get grumpier if I didn’t remind you. Ohno points out to the wall clock. “it will be in half an hour.”

Without even a sigh, Matsumoto stands up, stretching and yawning like a cat, his hair sticking out in places. 

“Can I come to the shop with you?”

“Of course,” Matsumoto answers without a second thought. 

That was easier than he thought, Ohno grins. And just to make sure he adds. “I can be a little help.”

That stops Matsumoto from heading to the kitchen. He turns and meets Ohno’s unsure smile with a frown. “Oh. You mean— To the shop and— You’ll get bored. And it’s your day off.”

“I can do anything I like on my day off, remember? I think I’d like to help. Maybe some simple tasks?” 

“You don’t have to do this, Ohno-san.”

“I don’t”, Ohno says with a nod. “But I want to.” Spending the afternoon with Matsumoto in his shop is something he has never even wished for but now it seems to be the only thing he wants to do. 

“You’re spoiling me today,” Matsumoto says with a shy smile. “You don’t have to do anything. But you’re doing everything now.”

I’m not, I’m really not, Ohno wants to say. He knows that he’s the spoiled one with the opportunity to be around Matsumoto on a work day and to experience the shop in a way that he never did. And a small part of his mind is telling him that Matsumoto could object and he was asking for more than he could get, but it’s easier to ask now, Matsumoto listens and it’s easier to ask for what he wants. Excuses and explanations are not something he could do easily so he decides on saying the only thing he can think of: “It’s what I want.” 

Matsumoto stares at him for a long second before he finally nods. “Okay, okay.” And when Ohno is still stand with his resolute expression, a bright smile appears on his face. He steps closer toward Ohno and gives him a comforting rub on the arm. “Thank you. I’m happy to have you with me this afternoon.”

And Ohno finally relaxes; he nods once again, thank _you_ for having me.

When Matsumoto’s sure that he got everything he needs for the afternoon—his water tumblers refilled, he’s changed into new white shirt, and with Ohno coming down with him, he reminded Ohno to not forget bringing his phone charger—they leaves the coolness and comfort of the apartment and takes the short walk down the stairs to the shop. 

There are two bags of laundry in front of the shop door, waiting for them. Ohno was about to ask what it was when Matsumoto sighs next to him as he picks them up, “Koda-san always did this. One day someone is really going to steal her laundry bags.”

Very unlikely, Ohno wants to say. But he follows Matsumoto into the shop in silence, closing the door behind him, and waits. He watches Matsumoto set aside Koda-san’s bags and begins to line up his notes on the counter, mumbling about the tasks he had planned to do this afternoon as he jots down more notes on his papers.

“Three appointments,” Matsumoto begins abruptly, without even looking up from his notes. “And I still haven’t packed the— Oh, before that—” Matsumoto returns to scribbling again. “Need to have those ready before 5 so I don’t make her wait too long. And for tomorrow—"

Halfway through, Ohno realizes that Matsumoto is not talking directly to him but more to himself. It’s a very amusing sight, and one that he never had the chance to witness. And since it doesn’t feel right for him to interfere right now, Ohno quietly moves to take a seat at the guest chair, and waits again. Seeing Matsumoto navigating smoothly inside the shop also makes him realize how tidy the small cramped shop is, everything is within reach with some system Matsumoto must have been perfecting all these years. 

“Also— Koda-san will need these back by Thursday,” Matsumoto continues, giving the two bags of laundry on the counter a short glance, and makes more notes. “So let’s start working with these now. Oh, made note of that already. Okay, shifting this one to this pending list, and then—”

A soft chuckle finally escapes him, and Ohno regrets it immediately since it startles Matsumoto a bit, causing him to look up. “I didn’t mean—”

Matsumoto shakes his head as he smiles shyly, only then realizing Ohno has been there the whole time and is watching him. “It’s okay. I just have to deal with this first.”

“Mhmm.”

And with fondness Ohno watches Matsumoto shifting laundry packages and bags and starting to line up some of the pickup for the afternoon. More scribbling on his notes, a few trips back and forth to the back before he returns to behind the counter again.

Ohno remembers one time they talked about the back room; Ohno was curious about how the laundry work and Matsumoto was eager to explain all the specific terms and sequences were, for Ohno, rather complicated. Ohno didn’t push back then, knowing that Matsumoto only wanted to share details of his life, but now he wishes he paid more attention that time because for all he’s saying that he wants to help, Ohno doesn’t even know what to offer.

Matsumoto finally finishes rearranging his list, and this time he comes around the corner to take a seat next to Ohno. “You can take your time, sit here in the front, and deal with the register.”

“I don’t think that’s a good idea.”

“Yeah, I thought so too but if you want to I don’t actually mind,” Matsumoto says with a grimace. He looks up and points to the door leading to the back of the shop. “The other option is to work at the back. But—"

“That sounds more manageable.” It really does; he knows that Matsumoto always makes sure he can converse with his customer and Ohno knows that he can’t do that, at least not in the way Matsumoto does. Meanwhile working at the back doesn’t require him to meet anyone, but Matsumoto.

Matsumoto is frowning now. “But you don’t want that. It’d be like doing other people's laundry.”

“That’s what you do here, right?” It is pretty obvious since he knows Matsumoto runs a laundry shop. And somehow Matsumoto’s reluctance to quickly agree to his offer is making him more determined to offer his help. There must be something he could do without bothering Matsumoto’s work in the shop. “I don’t mind.”

Still, Matsumoto seems hesitant. “It’s like a war zone back there.”

However, it only piques Ohno’s curiosity more; what does Matsumoto mean by war zone? Shouldn’t that be more interesting. “Oh? Really?”

Seeing Ohno has fully set his mind, Matsumoto finally shrugs. “Fine, I guess maybe that’s the best. Or else you would have to be in the guest chair and it’d be crowded when people come into the shop. But don’t say I didn’t warn you.”

“What’s back there?” Now that Matsumoto has agreed, Ohno is filled with excitement. He doesn’t even know he was curious until today—sure he’s seen Matsumoto come out of the back after finishing his work often now, but he’s never been invited to the back and known what happens there.

“It’s where the magic happens.” Matsumoto smiles at him. “And since you’re so kind in offering to help,” Matsumoto says, his hand reaching out to give Ohno a rub on his arm, “Maybe I can have you do something.”

Ohno grins; finally, he can do something for Matsumoto. “Of course.”

“My first appointment won’t be here till later,” Matsumoto says, checking the time before turning to Ohno with an offered hand. “Come on, I’ll show you around first, and then you can decide.”

Ohno takes Matsumoto’s hand wordlessly. He has made up his decision though, Matsumoto has nothing to worry about 

The moment he steps into the back room, he immediately understands why Matsumoto said it was a war zone. Compared to the cool apartment upstairs and the slightly hot shop front, the back room is stifling. 

“Watch your head,” Matsumoto says, pulling Ohno in to the further back. A split second later, he bumps his head with some cloth hangers lined up on the low ceiling. “Ouch.”

Ohno can’t help to chuckle, and he makes sure he ducks properly to avoid them. And when he looks up, he finds himself in the middle of the back room already.

Cramped.

And an orderly mess.

There are so many things in the room but the large spinning machine on the back corner is the first thing that catches Ohno’s eyes. Next to it there are few other machines he doesn’t recognize, and then a huge dryer—based on the big font on the plate saying hi-dryer. He can already imagine the buzz and noise these machines are going to produce when they all are spinning. 

A low table occupies the other corner of the room; there are several shelves right on top of it, and Ohno sees in the bottom of the table there are open boxes and small containers lining up. 

A tug from Matsumoto and a soft voice in question startles him.

“Having second thought?”

“No,” Not at all, Ohno wants to say. He was merely amazed at the sight. So this is where Matsumoto is working every day. 

“That’s where all the laundry is done,” Matsumoto continues, pointing at the direction. He then points to the space behind them. “And all ironing and packaging happen here.”

Ohno turns to see a large iron steam presser on another long table; same setup with the laundry table, Matsumoto has more shelves on top and at the bottom of it. 

“And that’s it.”

An understatement, Ohno immediately thinks. Matsumoto’s explanation might seem simple but he knows there is so much more involved in his work. He doesn’t peg himself as a curious person but Ohno finds himself itching to try to look into those selves, to watch Matsumoto navigate himself in this backroom as he works, and to be amazed even more.

Matsumoto gives his hand another tug and they step further inside; he points out to the only one chair in the room so Ohno nods and takes a seat.

“So. Mhmm—” Matsumoto begins, looking around. “I guess—”

And Ohno realizes that Matsumoto is nervous; so endearing and unexpected. But this is his work space, and Ohno can imagine if it was the opposite, when he needs to explain his office work to Matsumoto, he would have been equally or even more nervous than Matsumoto. 

Looking at their fingers that are still entwined, Ohno does the only thing he could think of to settle this.

This time he tugs Matsumoto’s hand and startles him. “You still have few minutes before you need to open, right?”

In his confusion Matsumoto nods seriously before he realizes what Ohno is offering. He lets out a chuckle and bats Ohno’s head lightly. “Ohno-san.”

“You’ll think better sitting down,” Ohno says with a grin.

“Right.” Matsumoto rolls his eyes but he lowers himself and perches himself on Ohno’s lap. 

Satisfied with having Matsumoto near, Ohno gives him a few back rubs.

A small part of him feels rather guilty for pressing the idea of helping Matsumoto and causing him additional confusion on top of his work but for once Ohno doesn’t give it much thought; Matsumoto was right. It is his day off and he can do what he wants to do. 

Now, he wants to help Matsumoto in his shop and that’s what he’s going to do.

“It’s just I still feel bad asking you to help me with my work,” Matsumoto finally says, in a softer voice. His hand takes hold of Ohno’s shoulder; Ohno is hoping he’d lean against him but he knows Matsumoto won’t do that, at least not now when he’s working.

“If I complain about this later, you are welcome to tell me I told you so,” Ohno then offers.

“I’m not gonna do that,” Matsumoto says, giving Ohno a playful punch on his chest.

“I know,” Ohno nods. His hand now settles on the small of Matsumoto’s back. “But you can.”

Matsumoto is not yet entirely convinced though. “Ohno-san, this is me enlisting you to be my assistant and giving an order for some work you don’t have to do.”

“I know I don’t have to,” Ohno nods again; he’s been nodding at everything Matsumoto’s saying this afternoon, he realizes. Not that he minds. “But I want to. Are _you_ having second thoughts now?”

That is apparently the right thing to say because Matsumoto laughs at having his earlier question thrown back at him. 

“Well, many of these machines are old so they are easier to operate. And it’s basically the same thing with the standard washing machine found everywhere so it’s not rocket science,” Matsumoto says after a while, waving his hand and pointing toward machines lined up. “You are not to touch my steam iron and press, though. They are my babies.”

Ohno doesn’t bother to nod again; he just lets Matsumoto take all the time he needs to decide.

After Matsumoto mutters to himself for a few minutes, he finally says. “How about trying to do some loads? It would be a big help for me.”

Ohno lets out a small satisfied smile. Now they’re getting somewhere. “Mhmm.” 

“I can show you how to do the spin and dryer. It’s quite easy if it’s just some shirts that don't require special handling.”

After giving one last long rub on Matsumoto’s back, Ohno hums his agreement again. “Sure.”

“Let me get Koda-san’s bags then.” Matsumoto gives Ohno’s shoulder one last squeeze before he gets up and goes to the front counter.

Ohno stays seated and gives the room another look around. All these machines must be the reason why it is so hot here, he can already feel bullets of sweats running down his back. Matsumoto returns just in time as Ohno finished rolling up his sleeves, ready for some grunt work.

“It’s not actually complicated but you need to change the loads often,” Matsumoto says, as he powers up the spinning machine. “And since Koda-san only has white baseball uniforms, you can put full loads instead of waiting for separate batches.”

Ohno steps away to give him space and watches Matsumoto pull out some empty baskets. 

“Just check if there’s stains other than mud and dirt and soil. Usually around the collar, sleeve, and ankle area.” Matsumoto begins to take one uniform top and examine it quickly. With a hum, he drops one into the basket and then takes another one. “These are the local high school club’s uniforms, and they only wear it on weekends. I doubt there’s going to be difficult stains that need dry clean but you can never be sure. And you can use these baskets to arrange the next”

“Let me see one,” Ohno says and holds out his hand. When Matsumoto gives him a shirt, he begins his inspection. True, the sleeves are the parts that are most dirty, and the shirt Ohno’s holding now has dirt all over its back. He then puts it in the basket, just like what Matsumoto did.

“One medium load equals one basket. So, when you have a full basket, you can dump it into the washer and start,” he continues. From a shelf next to the machine, he pulls out a large container and shows its content to Ohno. “One scoop of detergent for one load.” Matsumoto pours a scoop into the washer and sets the container aside. He comes to a stand again and points out to the wheel under the rows of buttons. “After closing the lid, spin this wheel to lock everything in.”

Ohno hums, now fully concentrating on Matsumoto’s action. He doesn’t want to miss a thing; he needs to be able to do this right.

“This washer uses warm water, so you need to be careful of the splashes, okay? And then the switches and buttons,” Matsumoto says as his hand moves up from the wheel. “There’s two lines of buttons and switches—and Ohno leans forward to properly see the small writing under each. Matsumoto continues. “Basically, you only need to use the ones on the right row. These two—” He pushes a button and flips a switch on the right row. “—are to start the spinning.”

The washer machine gives a bit of a hitch before it lets out a loud hum and starts spinning.

“That’s cool!”

Matsumoto lets out a small laugh. “Well, it kind of does. And that’s it. It’s going to take—”

“Oh, it’s spinning in reverse now!” Ohno blinks in amazement. 

So that’s how washers work; he never knows. All his life he’s been dumping his laundry into the machine without so much thought. Since the one in his apartment complex is a new fancy version with one touch washing, he never pays attention to how the spinning tube works. There are faint splashes of warm water hitting his arms now that he’s standing close to the machine but Ohno doesn’t mind; it’s an impressive process for him after all.

“—yes, it does,” Matsumoto smiles. Gone is the earlier nervousness. With the rare sight of Ohno’s obvious excitement, Matsumoto is now sounding less nervous. “It’s gonna take 20 minutes. There’s no timer but this here—,” he points out a small bulb on top of the buttons, “—will turn off when it’s done.”

“Okay,” Ohno says with several small absent nods. “So, this is a go, right?” At Matsumoto’s affirmation, he asks again. “And then?”

“Then, the dryers.” Now that Matsumoto has fully accepted Ohno’s offer, he doesn’t seem to hold back on giving a task. His voice is still kind but there’s a lace of confidence in explaining his own expertise. He turns to face the other side, one hand pointing a low cylindrical machine and the other to the hi-dryer on the corner. “Two spins. First in this spinning tube. And second, in this one. It’s one touch button so it should be easy”

Ohno steps aside to let Matsumoto through; he watches him pull a few other baskets from the bottom of the low table next to the hi-dryer. “All from the hi-dryer goes here. And since they’ll be dry, fold them and pile them here.”

“Of course.”

“I mean—” Matsumoto tries to say; he’s not completely gone over his nervousness apparently. “I didn’t mean to—”

“Jun.”

With a weak smile, Matsumoto says, “Sorry for the tone. You can just pile them too. It’s just it would be helpful if you can pile them neatly so it’d be easier to iron later.”

“Then I’ll pile them neatly for you.”

Matsumoto lets out a loud sigh. “I guess that’s it. It’s not very difficult, it's just time consuming. I usually do this as I go back and forth with the ironing and being in the front counter. If you don’t—”

“I do,” Ohno cuts him and takes one step closer to calm Matsumoto again. 

“You don’t know what I was about to say,”

“I don’t mind,” Ohno says again, and raises his eyebrows just to wait for Matsumoto’s reaction—he knows Matsumoto wants to ask him again, or reconfirm what they’ve been agreeing before. Matsumoto also needs to return to work and not spend his time teaching Ohno how to help him. “You’ve explained everything thoroughly. How about I’ll wait for this batch to be over and you can check on me later? I’ll promise I won’t press any other buttons.”

Matsumoto was about to say more but the front door chime rings. 

“Welcome! I’ll be right with you!” Matsumoto cries out in habit to the direction of the front of the shop, before turning to Ohno and says with a softer voice. “Just call me if you need anything, okay.”

This time Ohno is the one who manages to land a soft peck on Matsumoto’s cheek and before he could say anything else, Ohno gives him a slight push by the chest. He gives another nod—hopefully the last one, and he hopes he’s convinced Matsumoto properly—and promises himself that he’d not bother Matsumoto’s work and will try his very best first. 

For the second time today, he says, “I’ll be fine. Go, you don’t want to keep them waiting. I got this.”

The moment Matsumoto leaves—or it must be his first appointment after lunch break—Ohno looks around more closely to the work space. 

Now alone in the backroom—and he needs to wait for the load to finish in the next 15 minutes anyway, he can see everything at a slower pace. Cramped might be his first impression but orderly mess is truly a better term to describe the space. 

In only two steps he gets to the other side of the room near the narrow hallway that will lead to the front shop. 

He takes a look of the large steam press—one of Matsumoto’s babies, he said, and notices that there’s a long ironing board next to it and fancy iron attached to another row of shelves.

Next to it, pressed suits and shirts are lined up neatly in a rail hanger. Some of them have yellow receipts while others the pink ones. 

With a fond smile Ohno touches one of the receipts, and remembers his first shop receipt and how happy he was to return. He once told Matsumoto that he still kept the receipt he received from the first time he went to the shop, but he didn’t say that he had put that receipt in one clear folder and stored it carefully; it remains until this day one of his most precious mementoes.

On the floating shelves above he sees bottles of what Ohno concludes as softeners, perhaps detergent, and some other chemicals Ohno doesn’t dare to touch. 

Under it are shelves. Lots of shelves. As he steps closer, he recognizes Matsumoto’s scrawls on labels on top of each shelf. Stacks of laundry packs are filling those shelves; them: _shirts_ shelf is filled almost to the brim with, what else, shirts. And they are all white—and Ohno catches another shelf with the same _shirts_ label for pastel color shirts. The shelf with _ties_ label on it has several ties in plastics. 

The labels on the other shelves are a bit different—probably indicating the shop regulars and Matsumoto notes, Ohno assumes, since he sees few names on them. Under the regular labels the _taro-chan doesn’t like softener smell_ shelf is half-filled with small coats; the shelf with _double triple check, he’d just complain again_ is empty but the label made Ohno chuckle; the shelves with _night pickup no plastic_ and _Showa cute oji-san. use special softener_ are packed with stacks of men’s shirts; the bottom shelves with kimono cloths and baby jackets are labelled _home delivery_ and _use special baby detergent_.

Impressive. 

More than the machines he never saw before in life, more than the cramped space and everything in it, these shelves tell Ohno stories. 

Impressive, endearing, and precious stories of all Matsumoto’s work. 

Not that Ohno doesn’t know how much care Matsumoto give to his regulars but Ohno certainly did not expect to find out so much care, so much of Matsumoto’s seriousness and kind heart, right here in the back of his laundry shop.

Ohno has to take a step back from the side of the room, now standing in the middle of the cramp space, to steady himself. 

Suddenly, a flicker of embarrassment sparks in the corner of his mind.

Ohno has always thought that the laundry shop is out of the ordinary with its unique shop and Matsumoto as the center of everything.

He was wrong; this laundry shop is nothing but ordinary.

Matsumoto's seriousness and all his concerted efforts in doing his best work for all his customers are here in the back room of his laundry shop. Everything Ohno sees around him right now are testaments to all that—along with the old but sturdy washers and dryers, the fancy irons and steam presses, the carefully packed laundries, and Matsumoto’s post-it notes all around. 

Ohno’s task, for once, is no different from the usual clothes washing. However, Matsumoto was careful and detailed in giving directions. Ohno initially thought it was because Matsumoto was not comfortable in letting Ohno work at his shop, since today is his day off. But he was wrong; it was the sense of responsibility for his laundry work, in handling with other people’s precious possession; it might be just clothes, it might be just a simple high school baseball uniform, it might be just another washed-out pant, but every item holds meaning to its owner and Matsumoto, Ohno realized now, was trying to show respect to that. 

Matsumoto, in his eyes, has always been someone he admires for his love for his job, for his shop, for his customers; he’s always been so earnest, working hard to a fault. 

He has witnessed Matsumoto grown frustrated because he failed to tackle what he called an impossible stain from one of his regular’s pretty dress but he was also there to see Matsumoto’s satisfied tired face at the end of the day when he finally found a way to remove the stains on that dress; he’s seen Matsumoto went all the way to one of his regulars’ home after the shop closing just because he forgot to include the small gifts he usually gave their children but he was also there to see Matsumoto’s bright smile after he returned from home delivery with two cute airplanes the children gifted him in return; he’s seen Matsumoto grumpy in the morning because he needed to wake up earlier only to do a home delivery for one of his regulars that needed a suit for their relatives’ wake but he also knew Matsumoto has had refused the offer to pay extra fee for the delivery, stubbornly saying that it was the right thing to do. 

It dawns on Ohno that the slight embarrassment he felt was for his assumption that Matsumoto has the best job therefore he must have enjoyed his work.

Ohno has always had that reservation in sharing about his mundane job with Matsumoto, knowing that nothing but complaints would pour out of him when he started. He’s haunted by the constant feeling of never being able to do his best in his job, of being afraid to take drastic measures, and of being silent about not liking his job. All his life, Ohno has always envied anyone who clearly loves their job—simply because he doesn’t. 

Yet, now he feels not an ounce of envy for Matsumoto. 

He no longer thinks Matsumoto has the best job—it’s basically just washing clothes for people—but even with the most mundane job, Matsumoto manages it with respect and faces challenges head-on, showing the utmost care for his customers; he’s been doing his best in every way to finish a task he started, to push himself to not look over any details no matter how trivial, to labor over time-consuming and repetitive chores, day after day.

He now thinks about their quiet times at the end of the day. It all started from shared dinners down the shop when Matsumoto’s smile is calm after a long day at work. They have taken their time leisurely—and Ohno cannot thank Matsumoto enough for his consideration. Matsumoto invited him into his home even after Ohno failed to show his true feelings. He allows Ohno to set their pace, and always opens his home for Ohno. 

At the next moment, another realization hits him; he’s been standing at the center where the scent of lavender is the strongest. 

The frown he’s been wearing now melts into a small smile.

The scent is what brought them together. It’s what Ohno always associates with Matsumoto—his elegance and devotion to life and the attraction on first sight. It’s also what always reminds him that he is in the opposite side of the spectrum—not good enough, not focused enough, always stubborn with his own pace. 

And at the back room of the shop, surrounded by the now-familiar lavender, the last missing piece of the puzzle of his feelings for Matsumoto falls into its place. 

The scent has brought them together. The shop has provided them meeting places where they can take their time to get to know each other. Matsumoto’s home has been a space he shared with Ohno. 

But they all could only do as much.

It’s then up to him—and Matsumoto—to nurture this connection and work their way further into the relationship. And he realizes being his doubts are often baseless and inward looking. He has learned all these months that he’s in this with Matsumoto—he’s no longer alone—therefore, it’s with him Ohno should go on and be right now.

He turns to the washers and sees the small bulb next to the button has turned off.

Rolling up his sleeves, Ohno shakes off his emotional thoughts and steps back to the corner to get his assigned; Matsumoto has trusted him with one task and he plans to ace it. 

After pulling out the first batch from the washer, Ohno manages to transfer everything to the dryer without a hitch. He switches the dryer on, and is pleased to see the load now is spinning through the little door window. He returns to the laundry bags and begins to sort the next batch. Check for stains, Ohno reminds himself. He fills a basket and then puts them in the washer to spin. Since the dryer will take a while, he shifts his focus back to the bags—better to prepare the next load because he’s going to have to deal with the hi-dryer next.

As he’s finishing up sorting his third basket, the dryer beeps. Time for the hi-dryer then. Carefully he moves the load and presses the button. The hum of the machine is low and there’s no window; Ohno waits for a long minute and when nothing else happens he goes back to sorting. 

The beep for the hi-dryer finally goes off when Ohno is staring at one questionable stain on one of the uniforms. 

His first load is ready.

A wide grin instantly appears on his face by the time he opens the dryer’s small door. He lets out a satisfied hum when he touches the clothes, moving them slowly to the last basket. All of them feel clean and smell good and fresh. He remembers Matsumoto being shy about asking him to fold and pile the ready load, but Ohno doesn’t mind at all. Anyone would be more than happy to deal with the pile of clean and fresh laundry; a sense of accomplishment hits him, and as he continues to fold one uniform after another and arranges a neat pile on the final basket, Ohno is grinning with satisfaction.

And Ohno continues working on the next load, and then next, and the one after the next. 

Now that he gets the hang of it, he comes up with a good rhythm; it feels good to move his body according to the order—washer, pick up, dryer, fold, and repeat, dryer twice, and then fold again. He mindlessly tackles one task after another, humming a tune he doesn’t even remember its title.

Midway, he can hear Jun conversing with his customers between the pause of silence. Some of them are laughing, and some others are chatting merrily—perhaps sharing their stories—with Matsumoto. 

On the last load of hi-dryer, he feels a presence from the doorway. Turning, there’s Matsumoto watching him with fond eyes and a sweet smile. Ohno grins at him. “I’m almost done.”

“Thank you.”

“You should check these first though. I don’t know if I’m doing this correctly,” Ohno says as he turns to deal with the dirty baskets. 

“I still can’t thank you enough.” Matsumoto steps closer and begins to take a look at Ohno’s final baskets—all the uniforms are now folded neatly and lined up. He touches some uniforms, inspects them closely, unfolds another, before folding them again. “And these are great. You’ve done a good job on them.”

Ohno nods, but this time with a lighter heart. He’s done his best and it feels good to complete a task--Matsumoto’s praise also makes all his efforts worthwhile.

Matsumoto takes one final basket and moves it to the iron and press corner. When the hi-dryer is done Ohno deals with the last load. Matsumoto then joins him to help with folding the last few uniforms, before setting the last basket away. 

With a gentle touch over Ohno’s shoulder, Matsumoto says, “Let’s come up front, I have cold drinks. I’m done with the afternoon appointment; it’s going to be some slow hours ahead. We probably can have the shop for ourselves for some time.”

Ohno nods, taking Matsumoto’s offered hand and following him to go to the front of the shop. 

Cool air and familiar surroundings welcome them.

Now that he has spent a few hours in the back room, the small fan in the front of the shop feels like a blessing; this must be why Matsumoto always flushes every time he comes to the front shop after working at the back room. 

On the counter, Ohno sees the tall pitcher of ice tea from the fridge upstairs and a box of— “Is that a box of sweets?”

“Yes.” Chuckling, Matsumoto nudges him to take a seat. He then offers Ohno a small towel, which Ohno takes gratefully.

“From your fridge?” Ohno asks. Truly, he doesn’t realize he’s been sweating heavily. He makes sure he wipes all the sweat around his face and neck. “I went through your fridge all morning. I didn’t see any box.”

“No, One of my regulars, Udo-san, brought it over when she came to pick up her suits just now,” Matsumoto says with a chuckle as he slides Ohno his ice tea. He then settles in his chair and begins to unwrap the ribbon of the box. “I thought you’d enjoy this.”

Ohno takes a sip, trying to not look too eager but he ends up leaning forward to see what’s in the box after he sets his glass. Upon seeing the content, he gasps in excitement. “Cheesecake!”

Matsumoto laughs on his reaction. He then carefully sets the large piece of the cake on a small plate he has readied. “She’s always been very generous. Here you go. You can have it all, a reward for all your hard work.”

“No. No,” Ohno says. He knows he has his eyes only on the cheesecake, but he knows he’s not only the one who has worked hard all afternoon. “We should share.”

“I only brought down one plate. You can go ahead.” Matsumoto slides the plate over to Ohno and then busies himself with stowing away the box and paper bag. “I hope it’s good. I don’t know if you would like cheesecake since it doesn’t have chocolate like that chocolate cake you like.”

Everyone likes cheesecake, Ohno wants to say, he’s damn sure it’s good; the cake looks amazing already. He takes a large forkful and the cheese richness explodes inside his mouth. What was Matsumoto worried about? This is top grade cheesecake. One of the best he’s ever tasted. Excellent perfection—whoever this Udo-san is, Ohno needs to meet her and asks where she purchased this delicacy. He doesn’t even want to open his eyes, sighing loudly and letting out a happy moan. “Divine.” 

Matsumoto nods with a smile, looking pleased as he sips his tea slowly. “I’m glad. I thought you’d be disappointed since it’s not a chocolate cake.”

“I love cake. Any cake. Especially one that tastes this good,” Ohno says in a singsong. It’s such an expected surprise and Matsumoto remembers that he likes chocolate cake. Ohno is delighted. “Here have a bite.”

Matsumoto is staring at him with squinted eyes, fully suspicious of Ohno's offer. “Are you trying to feed me?” 

Ohno can’t think of any other answer—because that’s exactly what he’s trying to do. The cake is just too delicious to be enjoyed alone. He wants to share this with Matsumoto. He _has_ to share this with Matsumoto. He says, in all seriousness, persistently. “Yes.”

With an eye roll, Matsumoto complies, licking his lips before opening his mouth and the forkful.

Ohno can’t hold back his grin now. A shiver of dark delight runs through him; seeing Matsumoto’s wet lips and how quick of him being agreeable to Ohno’s request despite the act. “Good?”

Matsumoto licks his lips again, his eyes fluttered closed now, and hums. “Yes.”

Ohno knows he’s staring now but he doesn’t care. They are in an empty shop and it’s only the two of them, and Matsumoto looks so cute. Ohno leans forward slightly and finds himself asking in a soft voice: “Can I?”

Matsumoto opens his eyes, not surprised to find Ohno’s leaning closer. His eyes are soft but his tone is firm. “No.”

Laughing, Ohno leans away and settles back in his seat. He knew Matsumoto wouldn’t allow them to share a kiss in the shop but it was irresistible to tease him a bit.

Matsumoto accepts two more forkfuls before he insists that Ohno should enjoy the rest of the cake. He asks if Ohno doesn’t mind helping with more load at the back of the shop; Ohno agrees immediately. And they then take the rest of their deserved break in companionable silence.

They end up at the back of the shop almost the rest of the afternoon. 

Ohno is tackling new laundry loads while Matsumoto settles on his iron and press corner to work on the Koda-san’s fresh laundered uniforms. Now with his newfound rhythm, Ohno can take breaks between loads and steal as many glances at Matsumoto’s direction. 

He can hear the soft murmurs Matsumoto are probably unconsciously making throughout. The sight of Matsumoto’s back as he works with the steam pressers is captivating. He gets distracted easily—Ohno finds out—by something he keeps on finding on the uniform, and ends up stopping to deal with whatever he just found. Ohno sees him fussing over some loose threads, a missing button clip, a small pin badge a kid left in one of the sweatpants’ pockets. Yet, Matsumoto’s overall concentration is incredible; he doesn’t let the small distractions and additional tasks veer his main task. He returns to the steam press for another uniform before deftly folding them and putting them in the freshly pressed pile. While waiting for one of his loads to finish in the dryer load, Ohno just sits back and watches Matsumoto finish all Koda-san’s laundry, packing them into neat wrapping and sets them for delivery in one of his many shelves.

Only two customers come over in the evening, and Matsumoto greets them with the same cheerfulness, leaving his work and meeting them in the front of the shop. He then returns to the corner and continues with pressing several pastel colored shirts and this time Ohno has the pleasure of seeing Matsumoto operate his fancy steam machines—the sleeve presser is wickedly cool, and with some practiced moves he slides in the collar-stay into each of them.

Ohno stays in the back room until he is running out of excuses. He already cleaned up the washer and dryer area, making sure everything is returned to its respective place. Matsumoto is still working on the next batch; soon it’s going to be time for him to close up. 

Ohno doesn’t mind waiting. 

He quietly catches Matsumoto’s attention, gesturing that he’d be in the front of the shop. It’s already dark outside, Ohno finds out when he steps behind the counter. The shop now has turned into its quiet and comfortable state with all its soft lights lit. 

He settles in the familiar cushioned small bench near the door. Sighing with contentment, he pulls out his phone and scrolls through all his notifications. 

The shop phone rings some time later.

And Ohno tunes out when in the corner of his eyes Matsumoto steps out from the back room and answers it. It’s something about pick up arrangement on Friday morning, and then Matsumoto disappears to the back of the shop again. 

There’s nothing interesting in his Instagram feed so Ohno switches his mind  
into planning for dinner. They both have been working non-stop and lunch seems like a lifetime ago. Perhaps he can rummage Matsumoto’s fridge again and offer some simple dinner; he’d let Matsumoto decide for them later, he finally decides.

“Ohno-san.”

Matsumoto’s soft voice and a gentle touch on his cheek shakes him off his daze. And Ohno looks up to find Matsumoto standing next to him. “Mhmm?”

“I’m done closing up. We can go home.”

Ohno has seen a lot of Matsumoto’s face by now, but the blooming smile over his tired expression just now is one of the most beautiful. And home. The thought of them going home, together, brings a peaceful warmth all over him; his heart is bursting with affection for the beautiful man next to him. He reaches out to hold Matsumoto’s hand as he nods, knowing there’s a soft smile on his face too. “Okay.”

Ohno goes straight to the bathroom leaving Matsumoto by the entryway and comes out several minutes later all refreshed. Only to find the kitchen empty.

He stands in confusion next to the kitchen counter; he thought they’d go straight to preparing dinner and he was ready to take over just in case Matsumoto was too tired to set anything up for them.

A pair of socked feet on the edge of the couch catches his attention. And there he is; Matsumoto is sprawling on the couch, his arm covering his eyes, without a care of the world.

Ohno ends up going to the kitchen to grab water for the both of them first. He refills Matsumoto’s tumbler and pours himself a large glass of ice tea, before bringing them to the living room. He takes a seat next to the couch on the floor. He takes a sip of his tea before setting the glass and gives Matsumoto all his attention. “I brought water,” he says.

Matsumoto lets out a soft hum but doesn’t make any movement, so Ohno takes the silence that comes after. 

When Matsumoto still doesn’t say anything for a long minute Ohno reaches out to touch his hair. A brush over his falling bang, Ohno touches Matsumoto’s forehead, frowning a bit at the warmth he didn’t expect. But a split second later, he feels Matsumoto leaning to his touch and Ohno sighs in relief.

If Matsumoto wants to rest for a while, then he should take all the time he needs and rest. It has been a long day for him—or at least since Ohno has been with him for a half of a day, knowing exactly what Matsumoto is doing hour by hour, he completely understands. 

Ohno wants to ask if Matsumoto needs anything; he wants to tell Matsumoto that he has worked so hard today; he wants to tell he wants to take care of Matsumoto this time; he will do his best so they can rest well tonight.

Other times, it has been all the way around. With him being quiet most of the time, always stumbling with his jumbled thoughts and not finding words that seem good enough, Matsumoto has always been patient.

If he needs to wait for a while, then Ohno should do so. He doesn’t mind waiting, he reminds himself.

Time passes and Ohno stays nearby, taking sips slowly from his glass with his left hand and keeping his right hand on Matsumoto’s head, straightening his sore feet, and waits.

Until Matsumoto sighs loudly and turns to his side, curling as he opens his eyes. “I’m sorry.”

Why does he know somehow the first thing Matsumoto is going to say is an apology? And Ohno wonders why he knows that it’s most probably because Matsumoto feels like he should’ve done more with Ohno around. He shakes his head and stares straight into Matsumoto’s tired eyes, trying to reassure him that he has nothing to apologize for. And to emphasize, he leans down and gives Matsumoto’s lips a soft kiss. 

He hums as Matsumoto kisses him back. Their lips softly against each other, offering comfort and seeking understanding leisurely. When it ends, Ohno doesn’t pull away far. He shifts so he now can drape his arm over Matsumoto’s stomach and keep him close. “I’m not accepting any apology.” Especially if it was something that you don’t have any control of, Ohno wants to add; it was just work.

That draws a chuckle from Matsumoto, and Ohno feels a sense of distant pride; he just made Matsumoto laugh and it pleased him.

“Fair enough,” Matsumoto says. It takes another minute—to arrange his thoughts, Ohno wonders, before Matsumoto offers him a small nervous smile. “I know we talked about going out tonight for dinner. But, is it okay if we just stay in instead?”

That’s an easy question, Ohno nods. “Of course.” 

“There’s— I don’t even know what’s in my fridge.”

“I do,” Ohno says with a smile. He knows what’s in Matsumoto's fridge; Matsumoto has nothing to worry about. “Let’s see what we have. I can whip up something quick for both of us.”

He can feel Matsumoto shifting next to him, curling a bit closer to him, now his knees folded and touching Ohno’s back. He rubs his hand over Ohno’s arm and gives his elbow a firm squeeze, his eyes serious.

“What is it?”

Matsumoto just keeps on staring at him in silence, like he was trying to come up with words. 

“Jun?” Ohno doesn’t try to go around Matsumoto’s grip but his hand on Matsumoto’s hair now moves to caress gently. What is this? It’s usually him who has trouble with words. It’s usually him who needs time to say what’s on his mind. And he lost his words again. Is he supposed to say something else? Or was his offer crossing some line he doesn’t know of? He has to ask: “Is something wrong?”

At Matsumoto’s small nod, Ohno braces himself. It must be something he’s done today; was it something about the washers? Did he ruin someone’s clothes? 

Thought running too quickly in his mind, and it’s very easy to fall into his usual mindset of focusing on his shortcomings. But, it’s Matsumoto. He’s with Matsumoto now, Ohno reminds himself. The sense of calm that comes after doesn’t feel foreign; it feels familiar. He’s with Matsumoto, and they are together now. 

It will be okay.

“It’s been a long day so I’m probably just rambling,” Matsumoto then says. “I don’t like that I’m so tired right now. I thought having you around would be easier. It turns out I was having trouble focusing on work all day—"

Ohno doesn’t know where this is going and he makes a questioning sound.

Matsumoto immediately lets go his grip on Ohno’s shoulder and reaches out to soothe him. “No. No, it wasn’t because of you, Ohno-san. It was just my own thoughts. Somehow, I don’t know. With you around I constantly want to… _impress_.” In a softer voice, he adds. “And I didn’t think it would be this tiring.”

Okay. That is something Ohno can understand. He has his share of wanting to impress Matsumoto; the thought of him bringing his clean suits to the laundry repeatedly comes to mind and it brings a small smile on to his face. But they talked about this in the morning. Matsumoto, just like what Ohno has said before, has nothing to worry about. 

He shifts, brushing Matsumoto’s bangs out of his eyes and making sure that they are close so Matsumoto can clearly see him. “You already impress me. To no end. Since the first day I met you. All the time.”

“Ohno-san, that’s not what I meant,” Matsumoto says with a frown. “I’m not fishing for anything. I was--”

Ohno smiles and, to keep the talk light, pokes Matsumoto playfully on his cheek. “Well, that’s what I think about you. You don’t have any say on that.”

But apparently Matsumoto is not letting go of the topic easily. ““I even made you do grunt work at the shop, it’s unacceptable.”

Didn’t we talk about this already, Ohno wants to say. But he knows by doing so Matsumoto will only go further with more worry. So, he tries a different approach. “It was really nice to see how you manage the shop. I never know a laundry shop can be very complicated. You’ve been nothing but amazing.”

“I’m nothing such.”

“Today was only a slow day, right? And yet the amount of work you did down there was not something that could be done alone. ”

“Well, yes.” Matsumoto is pouting now--a sign that he’d concede to Ohno’s point soon. “With your help, I’d be able to have a slow Wednesday.”

“Good. And take my compliment. What you have down there is amazing. And you did great today, I hope I wasn’t too much of a bother.”

Matsumoto shakes his head, and ends up leaning against Ohno’s palm more. “You never are. I told you countless times before.” 

“And I would still ask if I was, at times.”

“My answer will always be the same; you never are.” Matsumoto sighs, but he’s smiling now. “I guess we’re going to keep having this argument, right?”

“Yes,” Ohno says with a smile. That’s as good as a promise, he wants to say, but instead he leans down and captures Jun’s lips in another soft lazy kiss. 

Enough talking about their worries today. They need to freshen up, but right now with him leaning down a bit uncomfortable and Matsumoto lying sideways, they sigh against each other’s lips and share some more comfort. He can feel Matsumoto smiling in their kiss, and that makes him deepen their kiss for a while longer. When he pulls away, Matsumoto is still smiling with the expression that Ohno likes so much. 

They are okay now.

He shifts to get up and go to the kitchen but before he can turn, Matsumoto catches his hand and pulls Ohno on top of him.

“Jun.”

“A little longer,” Matsumoto whispers against his mouth. “We’ve been together almost all day but you’re so far, I want to be closer. A little longer.”

Ohno moves to straddle Matsumoto more comfortably and leans more of his weight on him, letting Matsumoto’s hand roam on his back. They both know that this won’t lead to anything—not when the night is still young and they need to settle down, and most importantly have dinner—but Ohno lets Matsumoto have his way, he lets Matsumoto have anything he wants right now.

And then, he brushes Matsumoto’s bangs out of his forehead, those beautiful eyes are closed, a hint of smile on his lips, and Ohno feels so much affection toward this hard working and kind man. He wants nothing but comfort for Matsumoto. He’ll do anything. He’ll do anything so Matsumoto can stay like this for a while longer. He starts with something simple: “What do you want for dinner?”

“Your miso soup.” 

A burst of pride blooms on his chest. Out of anything, Matsumoto wants Ohno’s miso soup. He grins. “Did you now?”

Matsumoto nods. “You must be tired too. Let’s have something simple. I don’t even want to move from this couch, you need to get all the cooking yourself.”

“Very well,” Ohno says. Matsumoto can take all the time he needs but he needs to get up and go to the kitchen. Only to get tackled back down, with Matsumoto keeping him on tighter hold. “Hey.”

Matsumoto hugs Ohno tighter, pressing his face against Ohno’s neck. “Don’t go yet.”

“Okay,” Ohno says, relaxing into Matsumoto’s hold once again. He lands a soft kiss against Matsumoto’s hair. “But the longer you keep me here, the later we’re going to have dinner.”

“Point.” Matsumoto mumbles, and most probably is pouting against Ohno’s jaw now. “But I’ve been having you since yesterday yet I wasted today to work instead of being with you. Dinner can wait.”

“Okay, but you wasted nothing. We were together and we’re right here now.”

In a soft voice—Ohno almost misses it—Matsumoto says, “And I’ll still have you tomorrow?”

“Yes,” And the days after, he promises. 

Until Matsumoto lets him go, he will stay right where he is, right where they are. 

*

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for still reading; I hope the wait is worth it and I sincerely hope to see you soon with the last chapter <3

**Author's Note:**

> my [twitter](https://twitter.com/gomusshroom) ✨


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